Dante Chronicles
by Valoja
Summary: Dante goes to see the doctor for an interesting affliction, but is surprised by the severity of the situation and finds out he has more inside than meets the eye. No pairing. [Written by my boyfriend, too lazy to make his own account]
1. Destination: Weird

There he was, standing in the middle of a godforsaken forest, in front of what appeared to be an ancient mobile home. The kind you could only see on The Discovery Channel's Swamp People Redneck documentaries; more rusted iron and rotten woodwork than anything else. The only way he knew it wasn't an abandoned piece of shit, covered in more shit, was the fact that his amulet began to vibrate because of near supernatural things, such as demonism and witch craft.

And of course, the beheaded possums hanging next to the entrance gave away that someone, or rather 'something' was living there.

He looked around then scoffed before putting his hands in his long, red leather trench coat and in a swift motion, slid out two .45 caliber magnums. With a semi-screw summersault he changed his point of view 180 degrees. While in mid-air, he fired two slugs of silver-lined bullets into the giant bat that was hanging upside down from the thick branch behind him. The foul beast squalled, then burst into a bright orange flame, leaving scorch marks on the branch where it hung.

"Well, that was uncalled for…" A voice with a heavy Jamaican accent sounded from the entrance of the old trailer. "Demon killer or not, there be no reason to kill mon's pet, mon... Now, if you would get inside, Mr. Redgrave, you be late for your 'pointment and you be pay'n by de hour."

"All right, all right… But in my defense, that thing was fucking ugly. If anything, I made it better looking," Dante said.

Bertrand, the man glaring through the doorframe, was a well-built black man with a cigarette jutting from the corner of his mouth. He raised an eyebrow and blew a puff of smoke from his nose.

He was trying not to lash out with a stream of verbal vomit at the macho white boy with the oversized handguns and the weird sword on his back who had just killed his pet bat. Which left Bertrand with only one question: how did such a weapon even stay there? He didn't see any straps; no buckles. He then came to the conclusion that it was probably some kind of witch trick. He never understood those things anyway, he just worked as a bouncer for his uncle's business.

"Just get inside, ya?"

"This better be worth it," Dante said, glancing down. "Look at my boots! I just polished them yesterday. They're all covered in mud and possum crap." He grumbled while walking towards the trailer.

When he reached the door, Bertrand help up a hand to stop him, "Take off dem shoes. The doctor don't like it when his trailer be getting filthy." Then he turned and walked off, leaving Dante to shrug in disbelief before kneeling down to grumble some more. That only made Bertrand smile.

As Dante advanced barefooted into the old trailer, it dawned on him that the old piece of junk was more spacey than he first thought from the outside. Maybe it was an optical illusion, created by the cockroaches on the wall in the cramped corridor.

Determined to get what he came for, he strode on... albeit with a stiff upper lip.

Finally in the doctor's practice, an old black man with a gray goatee rose from behind his desk. The man looked fragile and possibly senile with one pupil bigger than the other and stained clothes that looked as if they were taken off a dead junkie from the late nineties.

He gestured for Dante to take the seat in front of the desk. Dante took a few seconds to have a closer look at the room. In the corner was a shaman's staff, complete with an empty calabas and dried gecko and even a damn blowfish. There were shafts filled with pots and jars full of ingredients for potions and rituals. Pickled eyes and intestines, dried veins, roots and flowers of plants known only in a language long dead and buried.

Dante approached the seat and took it.

The doctor took a deep breath that made his nostrils quiver. He opened his mouth and an uncommonly deep voice came out of the small man. "So... Mr. Redgrave, you saw it fit that Bertrand's pet died? Such aggression, what is there to come of this generation?" However deep, his voice was also warm and kind.

Dante looked up to his eyes and said. "Yeah, well, old man, you deal with this sizzling sensation every time you have to go, and you'll be itching to kill a few things before long! …No pun intended."

Suddenly the doctor's eyes screamed fire and violence, his voice not quite so warm and kind anymore as the palms of his hands slammed onto his desk. "Show some respect, boy. Do not forget whom you face! I am the Witchdoctor of this realm. I have seen your kind and I've dealt with worse. You need me but I don't need you. So watch your tongue before I cut it off!"

Dante blinked, one eyebrow lifting as he watched the old geezer settle back into his chair with a deep inhale.

When the old man spoke again it was like someone had flipped a switch, turning him back into a mild mannered old fart. "So tell me of this…'sizzling' you speak of."


	2. Ill Feelings

"It's just like I said... It's a sizzling sensation," Dante said, trying his best not to sound like a smart ass.

"Can you go into further detail a bit, Mr. Redgrave?"

Dante gave the doctor a look which clearly said:_ Are you fucking kidding me?!_ before he realized that he was getting on the doctor's nerves, evident by his jaw muscles flexing in and out. It gave him a quick smile but then he remembered the severity of the issue.

He inhaled and let it out with a deep sigh, speaking with an unsure voice, "Well, uh, Doctor.."

"Please... call me Jamal."

"Okay, Jamal... it is-"

"Or Doctor Jamal, that is also okay... Sorry, continue."

Dante's expression became almost painful, "When I have to go pee, it feels like..."

"Are you thirsty? Would you like a Ginger ale? I'd like a Ginger... "

"Would you let me fucking finish?!" Dante interrupted, leaving Jamal in his chair like a scolded puppy, silently reaching for the can of Ginger ale which was sitting on the corner of his desk.

Dante continued, "When I try to take a leak, it literally sizzles... And it's quite…well, it fucking hurts like the fires of hell." He couldn't help but smirk at the reference, but then was painfully reminded that it was his own damn pecker he was talking about.

"Well now, that's something you don't hear every day," Jamal said while he sipped from his ale, then he asked, "Could you tell me more about the sensation? "

"What else is there to say?" Dante asked. "It. Fucking. Hurts. Is it any help if I say it feels like I'm pissing gravel?"

Jamal, obviously enjoying this way too much, replied, "Okay, I've heard enough... Only one thing left to do: you drop your pants, and I'll exam it for you. If you're lucky I might give you a free prostate exam..."

Dante quickly stood up, with a face of crazy he rambled, "I know I sometimes party hard, but I don't swing that way, Doc! I'll be going now if it's all the same to you."

Jamal's face turned red again and Dante sputtered to a halt, reminded of the incident before. Then the doctor burst out with disturbingly deep laughter, "I can't believe you actually fell for that one! I is just kiddin', mon..." Jamal regained his professional posture and said, "I tell you what; I'll leave you here with a cup, and I'll go out back. I'll come back in ten minutes and you fill her right up."

Dante was now the one clenching his jaw, ready to cock Ivory in the face of the clearly insane man.

Pain shot through his crotch again and pulled his left hand out of his pocket, without Ivory, telling himself that he might kill him after all this is over with. Just to make himself feel better.

Jamal put a sterile, plastic container on the desk top and left the room.

When he came outside he saw Bertrand, obviously distraught while sitting on a log, smoking a cigarette.

Jamal whipped out his pipe and filled it with tobacco that looked like it came out of his beard. He sat down next to Bertrand and puffed away in the smoky haze.

"Ay, whagwan mon?" Jamal asked, "Whadya proulin' bout?"

Bertrand grumbled, "Dat fockin bloodclot gon killed my bird... Aye 'n' aye didn' do nottink.. "

Absently poking a dead centipede with a stick, Jamal gave a deep sigh and said, "Me knows, mon, me knows."

They remained there for a bit longer, Jamal listening to Bertrand's rambling. Ten minutes had passed and Jamal got up from the log, giving Bertrand a pat on his head before stumbling back inside.

Dante was whistling a tune when Jamal entered the room but his sweaty forehead made it clear that he had to work quite hard to produce half a cup of urine.

Dante said, "You know, this all started after I went to this crazy party... I should probably call her back.."

Jamal picked up the urine cup, unscrewing the cap, and stuck it under his nose. He began coughing and struggled not to gag. With tear shot eyes he turned to Dante, who was continually amazed by the amount of crazy the doctor had to offer. Jamal said with a small voice, " It smells like rotten eggs..."

Little veins popped up on Dante's forehead and snared, "I'm gonna count to ten. If you don't start making sense by the time I-"

"SILENCE, you fool!" Jamal's voice boomed throughout the trailer. With an urgency he continued, "How long have you been walking around with this affliction? Answer me!" Jamal demanded, when Dante was still not convinced of how serious the situation had become.

"Um, about two weeks I guess? "

"If I wanted a guess, I would have asked the cat! Think, Son of Sparda!"

"Twelve days! Sheesh, what crawled up your butt just now?"

Jamal wasn't paying attention to Dante's banter, instead mumbling citations in Latin while walking over to the book shelf to make sure he recalled the symptoms and the specifics correctly. After a few minutes of going through the pages like a madman, he stopped, closed his eyes, and rubbed his face with a whisper, "Then it is worse than I thought."

The old man suddenly didn't appear so senile or fragile as he did five minutes ago. The crazy seemed to be hidden under this cloak of urgency as he turned to Dante and said with a serious voice, "Dante, this is not the time for protocol, so just do as I say. Go and lie down on the sofa."

He walked over to the ingredients cabinet, then shouted, "Bertrand! Get ya'ass in here, ya!"

Dante was confused by yet another side of the Witchdoctor's batshit personality, leaving him only able to bring out the word: "Wha..?"

"Quickly now..." Jamal said, "Time is off the essence."

Bertrand stumbled in, with a face of danger he asked "Whadya need?"

Jamal never turned to speak, as focused as ever while collecting potions and ingredients, "Gimme dem ancient kits. Dis one be nastay."

Dante was fed up with confusion and demanded answers, "Can anyone tell me what the hell is going on?! What the fuck is wrong with me?"

Jamal snapped out of his concentration, but never looked at him, saying, "Oh, yes. It appears that you have attracted a succubus. Most dangerous."

"But I haven't seen a succubus in ages. Besides I sleep like a baby at night."

"Yes, that might be true," Jamal began while taking what Bertrand had brought with him, "But the succubus most common nowadays, are... how do I put this...?" He rubbed his eyes, while he searched for the right words. "A succubus is a bodiless demon, it's an almost impossible hotspot of concentrated lust and malevolence. That is its greatest power and yet its weakness; it is so dense that it won't go through your psychic philter. Only when you are in REM sleep, will it enter your body since your psyche is more susceptible for such things in that state. Once nested inside you, it lives a symbiotic life, feeding off your soul enough to weaken you, but not enough to kill you." As Jamal was rambling on, Dante had difficulty keeping up when the interval of crotch-pain came closer.

"However," Jamal continued, "Succubi are not as common as they once were. Through medicinal studies, the life expectancies of mankind grew and they grew lazy. After decades of feasting on men de-evolution struck, and took their ability to leave the host when it was near the ending of its life. Now there are so few, the chance you'd randomly get one is nil."

Dante was listening with a frown until he interrupted, "Don't be so cryptic, man! How can I have one, if it isn't possible?!"

Jamal paid no attention since he seemed to be running on automatic pilot now, rehearsing the ancient words, his focus on the preparation of several tonic's and substances. "The only possible, logical explanation is that you have attracted an ancient succubus. Probably ages old. They roamed the planet, searching for humans with enough power of will for them to be fed on; stimulating the prefrontal cortex responsible for lust and attraction. They are free to leave the host when they find something better."

"So.. Where are you going exactly? How did I get this piece of shit?" Dante demanded, still confused.

Jamal frowned and said, "Let me break this up for you... The _hot babe_ at the party you'd like to call back, was the host. You had sex with her, giving the succubus a taste of you. When you passed out, he swapped. The only reason you noticed its existence is because you are only half human. Your body is different as you are well aware. The succubus has no trouble using you, except that the waste product is a sulfurous compound... That's why your urine smells of rotten eggs."

Dante was baffled by the stream of information he just swallowed, and said, "I think I should start reading those old books again... You can get it out right?"

Jamal turned around and looked Dante dead in the eyes, "No. I can't, but you can..." he stated while presenting a platter with what appeared to be a random object on it.

"Damnit, do you have to be so cryptic, man, just tell me," Dante said, frustrated and ready to kill something.

"You will have to travel into your own psyche and force it out of you."

"Finally!" Dante exclaimed, throwing up his arms in exasperation. "So how do I do that? Meditation won't work. Tried that once. I get a sore ass when I sit on it too long-"

"Yes, I thought as much, so I prepared these," Jamal said while pointing at the platter.

"..." Dante inspected it a bit more closely and then stared at Jamal with a stiff upper lip. "...An eye? You know, now that I think about it, I'm not really good at oral, Doc. I mean, I _am,_ but that's only with the ladies-"

Jamal rolled his eyes, "First: LSD to force you into the REM sleep-like state. Next a crow eye, to bind the lucid dream so you can make heads or tails of things. Lastly, you'll take this salt. It will serve to keep your blood pressure up so you won't go into cardiac arrest."

Dante was flabbergasted for a sec, then asked, "What is that ?" He snorted, while pointing at a small white cube-like object.

"Oh, that's a mint," Jamal casually replied, "For the bad taste afterwards."

Dante took some time to get a grasp of the situation. Slowly, the corner of his mouth formed into a smirk and he scoffed. "I never liked hitchhikers anyway... unless they're European babes... It's time to get this rave party going!" He picked up the items in the order they were placed and swallowed the lot.

After a couple of minutes he felt himself slip away a little further with every breath he took. The patters on the stained rug, became a washed out mush and he knew that he was on the brink of losing grasp of reality. While he was transcending all of creation, he vaguely heard a deep voice telling him, "Be careful, Dante, it will use your fears and you will have to face yourself. Remember who you are." More mumbling followed, but Dante was out of reach and the words never arrived.


	3. Reflection

His eyes felt sore, trying to accommodate to the overwhelmingly bright void around him. As he tried to remember where he was, he noticed that the space around him seems dimensionless. He stared into what could either be endless, or a 6 cubic feet room, and wondered why he had this fresh minty taste in the back of his throat.

Suddenly, Dante remembered, where he was and what he came to do. At the same time, a spectacle of lights in colors more vivid than anything he ever saw. When he tried to concentrate and observe it, it died out. Leaving Dante shrugging, "Oh well" and moved thought to a more pressing matter and yelled, "Where are you, you rat bastard!"

In an instant the swarm of lights had returned, taking Dante by surprise. He grabbed for his guns, only to realize they were not there. Yet another surprise, he scoffed, jumped back and reached for Rebellion. Only to find it not there. With a sour face he said, "Damn it... I never liked surprises-"

He rolled and flailed around, trying to stay on the move, while he was desperately trying to think of a way out or a strategy. With disbelieve he saw the intensity and number of the swarm grow to immensity, and he knew there was only one thing to do. He took a deep breath, gave up on strategy and let instincts guide him. As he felt himself slip into the warrior role, the lights lessened and stabilized.

"Hey, what the hell! I was just getting warmed up-" As he said that, an array of lights pulsed through the brightness. And then it hit him. He was no longer battle ready and said, "Oh, hell yeah! That's awesome!" Dante his hands on his hips and laughed out, "Ha! So that's what my brain looks like from the inside?!" Then he cracked his fingers and smirked "Let's put it to the test..."

He took stance as a leader of an orchestra, and started wiggling his fingers. Small arrays of the vivid stream came out, more in control now, and started dancing around, to the humming of the director. They grew more intense as Dante started flailing around, jumping and definitely enjoying himself.

Slowly but surely words became to form, until it clearly read Dante Rulez.

"Oh Yeah!" he shouted satisfied. Like a proud kid he gazed upon his creation but then was struck with a new idea and he murmured to himself, "I wonder if this would work..." He opened his hands out in front of him and closed his eyes. Concentrating so hard, that little veins in his arms and neck popped up, the little lights began to take shape in his hands. Dante opened his eyes to see two sets of hands, holding his. The gentle women hands invited him to look at where they came from. An invitation he gladly accepted, and he looked up to be amazed at what he saw. Two beautiful young women, one light brown with short dark curly hair, the other a milky white broad with such blond hair, it almost merged with the pale background.

"Ladies," Dante said with the biggest grin known in mankind, "Would you like to play some games with me?" He looked them deep in the eyes while kissing their hands. They replied with the voice of angels, "Oh, of course, Dante, what do you have in mind?"

Smug, he replied, "Oh, I don't know a lot... But I am good with my fingers... If you catch my drift?"

"Oh, yes... Let's get some action," the brown chick replied, as they both came closer to his body. Leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek, their breasts pushed gently against him. Dante was ready to be swept away and closed his eyes.

He opened his eyes and looked down at what was in his hands. He brought the guns up to eye level and kissed the barrels, "Ebony. Ivory. It was my pleasure. Let's kick some ass!" Dante said.

The confident demon slayer turned around and started walking when a giant wooden door appeared in front of him. It opened with a cracking sound and was slammed shut after being passed through. The door disappeared with the same fashion it turned up and in a flash the bright room was filled with nothingness again.

After Dante had stepped through the door, what he saw on the other side was not what he meant for. Just as he had created his guns in the bright room, he had created this portal. The destination was supposed to be the brood chamber of the vile creature housed inside him. Yet, it wasn't that chamber he was facing. He knew it was the succubus' way of trying to fight him off. With a sense of disappointment in his willpower, he tried to figure out where, or rather, how far he was from his attempted goal.

Dante was facing a, what seemed infinitely, long hallway, with a number of "rooms" attached to it. in closer inspection he noticed it were actually cells. The rooms were locked with heavy locks and fortified with steel lacing. Each door had a one-way peeking hole in it, so that whoever was outside could look in. He noticed that some doors were barricaded more heavily than others and that these had name tags next to it.

Dante approached the door that said Gluttony, and curiously peeked through the hole. He saw an enormously obese man, with white hair and wild grown beard filling, drowning himself in pizza and strawberry sundays like a rabid beast, wildly devouring anything to quench his hunger. Suddenly it stopped and looked straight at the door, as if it knew it was being watched. Dante's eyes spread open with shock and awe and said to himself, "What the fuck?!" For it was a "spitting" image of himself, inside the room of filth and disgust. The gluttonized man, who was rather quick for his size, "crawled" to the corner and trembled in shame, muttering, "Don't look at me! Stop laughing!" The rambling continued for a while, but after that it seemed as he forgot about it all, and returned to feasting.

Dante stumbled back shocked and confused by what he had just witnessed. But he was also curious to know what was hidden behind the other doors.

When he walked up to a door that said Lust, he heard sniggering coming from begin the door. On the other side was another form of Dante, squatting naked in the middle of the room, surrounded by dirty magazines and panties. His tongue was long and pointy and his dribble formed a little pool of saliva underneath him. The lustful creature turned another page of the magazine, he held it sideways and gazed upon it. "Hoo... ghehehehehehe... Boobies!" He whispered to himself as he licked his own lips and he burst out in laughter. He held the magazine with one hand, while his other ventured down his stomach. Dante had now stepped away from the door, he could imagine what it was doing on the other side, and let out with a big sigh. He walked along the hall and looked at some more of the name tags: **_Vanity_**,**_ Rage_**,**_ Prejudice _**and thought to himself: What the fuck is going here?

The gloomy place gave him the sensation of insanity and he didn't like it. Stirred up with memories of a past, he thought, long forgotten, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath to regain his bearings.

While he was exhaling he felt a rhythmic touch, tapping on his shoulder. It took him by surprise, he quickly turned around, cocked out his guns ready to unleash guns blazing. Frustratingly, there was nothing. Bound not to give up, he switched stance, now pointing Ebony in one direction and Ivory in the other. He stood there like a statue, with trigger-fingers ready to snap at the least sound or sight of movement.

But then he noticed, he was alone. But still cautious, for the hallway had changed. A thick black goo had been added to walls and ceiling, and had been slowly dripping down on his trench coat, leaving black stains.

Cursing, Dante tried to wipe the corruption off, but it only smudged out. He was not amused, "Fuck... Now I'll have to dry-clean it again...Grrr."

Rather fast the dripped-down black mush had become a significant heap, and it appeared as if it began to take shape of some sort of animal. He heard a far away rumble that vastly came closer. The big bile in front of him was now complete in his form and had the shape of a big anaconda. Dante was curious as to what it would do and remained still, but in a state of awareness.

It seemed the anaconda hadn't noticed him at first, but then suddenly lunged, fangs prompting out, at his throat. This time, Dante was not taken by surprise and had dodged the giant snake skillfully. While the beast was whiffing by he had grabbed it by the throat, pinning it to the wall. A smile came onto his face, aware of the irony of the situation. "This is for my coat, you piece of shit!" he said, just before he shot the vile beast in the slimy head. It's head exploded, leaving Dante's hands covered in the dark stuff.

This was clearly the succubus' doing, sending out the corruption to attack him.

Dante had returned to his confidence, for he knew they wouldn't best him this easily, he had faced worse. The rumbling had come to eye sight, it was a wave of corrupt creatures.

Like rabid beasts they were sprinting through the asylum halls. Dante relaxed and holstered his guns.

He put his hand forward and inside it appeared his Rebellion and he whiffed it around to loosen his shoulders and get his bearings on the in-mind sword. When he was done "calibrating" a smile rose to his lips and he said, "Oh yeah! This is gonna be fun!" after which he ran straight into the horde, slashing and brutalizing at any sight of movement.

At the end of the first wave, Dante was now covered in goo, but he didn't mind. He was having a blast.

Then came the second wave, with, what seemed the same primal drive, they attacked him straight on, thus so did he. But then he felt a change inside him. The world started spinning, he became nauseous and he felt himself turn a bit more insane. Like his primal urges were getting stronger, more dominant.

He wondered what is could be, and then it hit him. The corruption was not as easily killed as he first thought they would. The former "dead" beasts had revived and now were attacking the doors, corroding away at the fortified lacings. He knew that he would be unable to control himself if they would break through, he also knew he couldn't kill the corruption this way. He had to kill the source... The succubus. He was already planning on doing that, but now it was a race against the clock.

There was no time to waste, so he ran off, neglecting the corruption, down the hall his eyes vexed on any clue that might hint the end of it.

As he was running down the hall, he was running quite a while now, it came to his attention that he was running in a loop, and when he thought about it, it wasn't a surprise. He was actually lying on a brown stained sofa in a crappy trailer on a crappy forest. He had stopped running and realized, the entire battle was in his mind, and every aspect of it had proven not to follow the laws of nature and logic thinking, so why would he limit himself to that?

He had created his weapons, and the portal that brought him here, by sheer will power. What kept him from using the same strategy now?

Dante faced the wall, where the output of corruption was thickest, and closed his eyes.

"Damnit... I said I fucking hate meditating..." he muttered, "Well, let's give it a try".

He took a deep breath and started meditating, it crossed his mind that he was now meditating while he was spacing out his guts on acid.

He focused on one specific point and tried to "go" all out. Little sweat drops appeared onto his brown and little by little the layers of corruption were blistering away.

Finally a hole, big enough, was cast into the wall and quickly he crawled through. With his trench coat all dirty, he figured it could be left behind. It wasn't real anyway, after all.

He now was half naked, in a red-ish room, but he was not alone. In the middle of the room lay a naked young woman, definitely in her prime. Obviously she had noticed Dante crawling through and began to make her way towards him, with hips swaying. It would make it hard for anyone not to be taken off guard. Not to mention the fact that she was naked and she didn't beat around the bush about it. As Dante, she was trotting with purpose. As she approached him, he gave in, as would any man or woman. Taking her in his arms, grinding in a full body embrace. Her lips reached out to his ears and sensually whispered, "I want you... I need you to... Fill. Me. Up." She looked him dead in the eyes and moved in for a kiss. Her lips parted and his head tilted. Her eyes dilated and his heart pounded.

*BANG BANG*

Her skin wasn't soft anymore, nor was it warm. It was cold and covered in red scales. The creature jumped back, dodging Rebellion's slash, but scratching Dante's chest with her claws.

"That hurt, you fucking bitch!" Dante yelled while looking at the marks on his chest.

"I could tell you the same, little shit!" the succubus shouted, not with a soft voice anymore, but harsh and bitter. She looked at her hand which covered her stomach area, blood squirted from the two bullet holes. With a hissing noise the holes seared shut and she uttered a growl of disliking.

"Son of Sparda! I will kill you for what that betraying cunt did to us!" she growled, "I am Nerophage, the last of my kind, thanks to that ignorant..."

"Yeah? I don't care..." Dante interrupted her, " But I will gladly finish his work! Bring it!"

Fueled by rage, she grew wings and dashed screaming towards the young devil. Stylishly he dodged her attack with a summersault, slashed off one of her wings and landed with sword and wing in hand.

Nerophage screamed out in agony but was not out for the count. Even more one with her anger, she dashed towards him again. Dante, this time, side stepped and slashed with his sword. This time she had anticipated his move and blocked the sharp edged sword with her thick scaled arms. With her long nails she pierced through his underarms, severing tenants from muscles, making him drop his sword.

Blood gushed out of his wounds, but Dante would not give up, he noticed his nails were stuck for a brief moment. He took this advantage to hit her hard in the face with her cut off wing. Sending her back against the wall. Dante now picked up his sword again, and rushed towards the bleeding succubus.

He lunged towards her and stabbed her in the heart, the neck and once again in the face for good measure.

Once the lifeless cRreature stopped twitching and bleeding, he knew it was dead. It was over. Leaving him with only one question... "How the hell do I get out of this place?" He tried to remember if Jamal had said something about it, but he hadn't... Or Dante had forgotten about it already. He figured the only thing he could do was remain here, until the LSD wore off.

"Well... Might as well have some fun," he said to himself and the female bodies of Ebony and Ivory had returned...

"So... What was that game you wanted to play?" Ivory said, while she glomped him.

"Well..." Dante said, "It involves a blind fold, some whipped cream and no clothing..."

It had been six hours since Dante had taken his LSD-mint cocktail.

Bertrand had dosed off when Jamal woke him up with a slap to the head.

"Wakeup, ya? He's be commin 'round now"

Once Dante had woken up, he remembered all what happened like a weird dream. Wondering if it had been real in the first place. He looked over at the desk and saw his guns and he knew it didn't really matter. It had been real enough for him.

He got up to stretch his legs when Jamal asked him, "So it is gone? Did you drive it away?"

Coldly Dante replied, "Yeah, I killed it. That ought to do it..."

Jamal uttered, "You didn't have to kill it, it would have been a prime sample for my studies!"

"Yeah, fuck that... She made it personal," Dante sneered. "All poops and giggles aside, I'll be going now. I need to take a leak, now I finally can..."

Dante put on his coat, which was not dirty at all and strapped on his weapons. With a confident smile, he stepped out of the trailer. He gave an absent salute while he disappeared back into the forest, off to a new adventure.

But first, a bathroom...


End file.
